


Solace in You

by SymphonicFantasia



Series: Just a Shidgen [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: All the prompts are strictly platonic though, Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Graphic Description, If you wish to see it romantically I won't stop you, Loss of Limbs, Post-Series, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SHIDGE, Shidge Week 2016, Shidge Week 2016: Future, Some of these tags are just in case, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8586172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymphonicFantasia/pseuds/SymphonicFantasia
Summary: Pidge lost more than they were expecting during the war against Zarkon and his army. Dealing with this lost is harder than they thought and it's hard to have a life afterward. If it weren't for Shiro, they wouldn't know how they'd be able to handle it.





	

They'd grown taller. It was obvious whenever they stood in front of a mirror. They did this ritual once a week, dressed only in their underwear to best evaluate their height. It was becoming painfully obvious in the way they walked that they needed a new leg. Every few months or so, they found that they needed it. A call to Hunk would be in order, but they didn't want to bother him with this.

Building a leg was difficult - even more so when it was your own leg that you were building.

"Katie? Are you okay?"

Pidge rubbed at their eyes with the palms of their hands. Shiro always found a way to interrupt them during this. "Yeah. I'll be out in a bit." Grabbing the day's clothes, they dressed, making a point to avoid looking at the mirror, making a point to not see the scars on their body after all they've been through.

Shiro was not waiting at the door like they expected; he never was. As usual, they found him on the modern leather couch, a tablet in his hand. They walked behind the couch and to the kitchen, opening the fridge door. Shopping is desperately needed. All that was in there is a couple of fruits, protein shakes, and half a gallon of milk. They went for the milk.

"We still have time before we need to get to Keith and Lance's place," Shiro said. They didn't bother to see if he was looking at them. "Do you want to stop by your parents first?"

For just a moment, they couldn't feel the glass bend beneath their fingers as their grip tightened. A trick of the mind, something that wasn't really happening but they hoped it would. They hoped that it would shatter so that the glass could cut into their skin and make them feel something. Anything other than the mixed emotions boiling inside them. Something to distract them from letting them breach the surface and popping like a pot of water on the stove.

"We'll see them at the party, right?" they asked, finally pouring milk into the glass. "Let's just meet them there." The chug of the cold liquid cooled them for a moment, even if it pooled in their stomach, ready to make them sick. It was the only dirty dish in the sink when they put it there. Their flatmate was particular about a clean kitchen. "Come on. We should just go now."

As they walked to the door, they could feel Shiro's eyes on them. Analyzing, critical thinking on his part, no doubt. The stare burned them and felt worse than any battle wound they suffered. Even worse than when they had lost their leg in the final fight.

"You're limping."

They bowed their heads in defeat, glasses falling slightly down their nose. Why do they still wear them? They never needed them and only used them to obscure their features from Iverson. It was the only thing they could think of so that they could search for their family without getting kicked out.

Still, they fixed their glasses. They refused to look at him. It bothered them that he found out just by looking at them. It couldn't be more than half an inch if that. "I'm fine, Shiro."

"Are you going to tell Hunk about it? You'll need a new leg," Shiro pointed out.

If Pidge wanted a doting father, they'd have stayed with their family. They didn't want to see three pairs of eyes on them, silently wanting to ask a million and one questions. One pair of eyes was better than three, but it still burned. Especially when those eyes had seen it happen; seen the way Pidge fell as their leg fell off in a clean cut. Even worse when the person who belonged to those eyes beat themselves up over it every night. The scream of Pidge's birth name still echoed in their mind.

"It's nothing."

"It's not."

They clenched their hands into fists. Looking over to the couch, Pidge's brown eyes locking with dark gray.

"I'll deal with it afterward." They smiled, the first real smile they'll allow themselves to have today. "Come on. This is supposed to be a happy day. Let's go celebrate, get drunk, and remember that we have to be up early tomorrow for a wedding."

For a moment, it looked like Shiro would fight them on this. But he didn't. He stood up, grabbed his coat off the back of the couch and followed them to the door. The topic wasn't brought up again that day.

* * *

"Remind me again why I'm marrying him?"

Pidge smacked Keith's back as they looked to the center of the yard. Lance had dragged Matt into the throes of his family and started dancing with him. He figured that if Keith wouldn't dance with him until after their wedding, Matt would do it now. It was comical, seeing Lance try to get Matt to dance the salsa.

"He saved you from a giant worm and you told him you would when the war was over," they reminded him.

Keith nodded his head, his lips pursed. "Riiiiiiiight. Why'd you let me go through with it?"

They took a swig of their beer, the taste bitter on their tongue, and smiled. "Because at least  _one_  of us paladins deserves a happy ending."

"Hunk should have had it," Keith commented. "If it weren't for the eye issues."

Hearing about injuries bittered Pidge's mood more. The war had taken away from them things that they couldn't get back. Shiro's arm, Hunk's eye, Pidge's leg. These things that they had to find some way of dealing with when the war was over and they returned to normal life. Whatever normalcy meant for them now. Normal for them use to mean waking up, training, and then saving a planet or destroying ship routes in the empire. Now? They were just struggling to get back into Earthly habits.

"Yeah, well," Pidge started, rubbing the side of their drink with their thumb, "he seems pretty happy. Missing eye or not."

"Pidegon! Come dance with me!" Lance shouted, his arms extending in welcome. "Your brother has no rhythm and I need to show Keith what he's getting in to!"

They chugged the rest of their beer and slammed it down onto a nearby table. "I actually have to get to the bathroom. Keith, however, is ready to dance with you now. He said he doesn't want to wait until tomorrow."

Beer spilled from Keith's lips as he choked, holding a finger out to Lance as he approached. "Don't you dare. Lance, if you touch me-No!"

A smile broke across Pidge's face as Lance lifted Keith over his shoulder and brought him to the middle of the yard. He didn't stop there, continuing to carry Keith and spin him around. The McClain family laughed and cheered, clapping their hands together.

"Pidge! I'll get you for this!" Keith warned, his hands bunching up bits of Lance's shirt.

"I'm so scared," Pidge said, heading back into the house.

The effects of the alcohol were getting to them now. With a firm hand placed on the wall, Pidge made their way through the house, aiming for the bathroom. For a moment, the world swayed beneath them and they pressed against the wall.

"Pidge hasn't mentioned a new leg to me."

"I figured."

Now that was interesting.

With as much willpower that they could muster in their buzzed state, Pidge moved closer to the voices. They stopped just before the doorway, resting their swimming head for a moment. They didn't need to look in the room to know who it was. Even Pidge's buzzed mind could pick out Shiro and Hunk's voice from a group.

"How's Katie been doing, by the way? They haven't talked to us much about their... leg or what they're feeling. We're concerned."

Their father? Well, they shouldn't be this surprised by this. Their mother was probably in there, too.

"Katie's doing alright," Shiro answered. "What they're going through isn't easy, Sam. There's going to be days where they won't want to talk about anything. Give them some time."

Pidge rubbed at their eyes and walked away from the room. They didn't want to hear any of this. Silently, they thanked Shiro for standing up for them. Out of everyone on the team, Pidge felt that he understood them the most. After all, who would better understand them than someone who understood them twice? It was their choice to move in with Shiro, their choice to live with someone who wouldn't bother them about it.

Pidge found the bathroom, needing it for more than just a regular bowel movement.

* * *

_At first, they didn't feel anything._

_They were too numbed from the shock to process pain._

_They could see it, though; see what happened to them._

_And they were scared._

_Nothing prepared them for something like this and they didn't know what to do. There was no line of code they could input to make things right, no experiment they could run to make this illusion disappear._

_Because it wasn't an illusion. It was real and it wasn't going away._

_That's when they started to feel the pain. That's when they could start feeling their blood spurting out from their stump of a limb. Now they could hear the sounds of a fight raging around them, the screams of their teammates. Yet they were still staring at their detached leg, seeing it twitch as if it was still attached to them._

_Shiro screaming their name reached their ears as he slid next to them, grabbing onto the stump to try and staunch the bleeding with his own hands._

_They screamed._

And that's what woke Pidge up.

Pidge sat up in their bed and stared at the wall. They're covered in sweat, their breaths ragged, their chest heaving. No matter what they did to themselves, that dream came to haunt them  _every_  night. A little over two years since their return from the war and it still happened.

Pidge looked around their room, taking in it's organized chaos. Computer parts and wires littered the floor and corners of their room. Experiments scribbled on paper have been tacked to the wall, strings of various colors connecting some of them. Those strings represent what experiments worked well together or what part of one worked with another.

It was Pidge's way of staying sane in this life of normalcy they have attempted at. Hunk took up gardening, Keith worked in a garage, Lance had knitting, and they had this. Even if their family had worry written all over their faces when they walked into the room, they didn't care. Without this, Pidge would have lost what little of their mind remained.

The room shook as a door opened and shut. Looking to the clock, Pidge could see the time glaring at them. 7:45 AM. Shiro was just returning from his run. That meant they had only gotten an hour and a half of sleep. They wouldn't be able to sleep now. Once Pidge was up, they were up. Even worse with the nightmare still fresh, poking and prying at pieces of their mind, ripping it apart like wet paper, spongy and yielding at any sort of force.

Grabbing a sweater, Pidge pulled it over their head as they stumbled to the door. Fragile parts were everywhere, but they don't care if they break them. They'll get more if they have to. The door opened quietly, and they're glad for that. The TV was on, announcing the weather for the week before going on into the news of the morning.

They found Shiro in the kitchen, a protein shake in his hand. He acknowledged them with a smile before his gaze returned to the TV. Pidge pulled an island stool out and climbed onto it. The air between them was calm, all the tension from yesterday was gone. Leave it to Shiro to not bring any bad tidings from yesterday into today. Pidge was sure he'll bring it up later, but not right now. Not when they look like a wreck that  _needed_  sleep.

"When does it get better?"

The question forced Shiro to shut the TV off, his attention now 100% focused on Pidge. "What does?"

He's playing dumb and they knew this. It's something that Pidge doesn't find charming of Shiro at the moment, but they can't find it in them to care.

"The nightmares, the regret, just..." They waved their hands in front of them, not gesturing to anything in particular. "Everything..."

Shiro said nothing for some time, but Pidge could feel him staring at them. They're too afraid to know what his expression looked like, too afraid to know if it's pity or sympathy. They don't want either on his face. Instead, Pidge wanted to see a smile. The same smile that helped the team through difficult times; a smile that, even when it was gone, still resonated with everyone that was fighting.

"It doesn't."

Pidge's heart hit their stomach.

"You learn to cope with it, though," Shiro continued, unaware of Pidge's initial discomfort. "Some things will trigger you and there's no stopping it, no matter how careful you are. In time, though, you'll find your own way of dealing with it. The nightmares will stop coming as often, too."

"It's been two years..." Pidge whispered. They noticed now that tears were welling in their eyes. It's too much energy to wipe them away and it will give a clue to Shiro that they're ready to cry.

"No one said recovering was easy." Out of the corner of their eye, Pidge saw Shiro walking around the island towards them. He wrapped his arms around their shoulders and pulled them into a hug. His Galra arm was cool against their heated flesh, pressing into their cheek. "Lucky for you that you have a great family and a set of friends that are ready to help you through it."

Pidge smiled, wrapping their arms around Shiro's waist. This was a comfort they'd never get tired of. Even in the darkest hours of the night, Shiro was always ready to comfort them when they needed it.

"Lucky that I have  _you_  with me."

Shiro chuckled, rocking Pidge's body against his own. "Maybe so." His hand moved to ruffle their hair. "Let's get some food in you and put you down for a nap before the wedding."

Pidge groaned, pushing Shiro away from them. "We're not in space anymore. Stop being such a dad."

He laughed this time, pulling a similar reaction from Pidge. "Never. Pancakes or waffles?"

"Waffles, duh."

Shiro raised his hands in defeat. Still with a thin veil of sweat on him, he grabbed his sweater and walked to the door. Pidge doesn't know what compels them to hop down from the stool and run after him. Shiro waited as they slipped their feet into their shoes and they left the apartment together.

The cold air instantly woke them up, goosebumps forming beneath their sweater. Summer was right around the corner, but Spring wasn't done yet. It wasn't done chilling those who were starting their day, commuting to their jobs or school.

Their walk was silent. A few people waved to Shiro but continued on their way after saying "how are you" to each other. The little place they get their breakfast from had been open for two hours now. Once they stepped in, the workers knew what they wanted to buy.

They chatted with the workers as they start cooking, pleasant conversation between people who've seen each other often. With their food in containers, they paid and waved goodbye to those in the store. Now there were more people passing by, crowding the sidewalk as they hurried to where they needed to be. Pidge moved closer to Shiro, weaving their arm through his. He smiled down at them, guiding them through the crowd.

Reaching the apartment, Pidge made a beeline for the couch and took it over. They spread across it like a cat, taking up as much space as their small body could cover. It doesn't take much for Shiro to rearrange them, moving them so that he's sitting against the arm of the couch. The TV was back on and there's something about an event happening in the city.

They weren't paying attention to it. Their conversation was about the wedding, picking and eating their food. The TV only served as a background noise, driving their conversation further. Who will freak out first, which one between Lance and Keith will end up telling someone they couldn't do it, out of their entire family, who will end up getting drunk first at the reception. Pidge bet Coran, but Shiro knew that it would end up being either Matt or one of Lance's many family members.

This was the second normalcy Pidge allowed themselves. The quiet mornings where they could talk to Shiro. The war was far from either of their minds and no one mentioned it. They don't mention Shiro's arm or Pidge's leg. This was the reason they wanted to live and have a life with him.

Because with him, they can have solace.

With Shiro, they can start feeling like themselves again, one small piece at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it says in the tags, feel free to see this romantically! I won't stop you. I just really adore Shiro and Pidge's friendship and, gosh darn it, I'm gonna do Shidge week. ... While trying to figure out how I'll do Shiro week. I'm gonna cry cause writing as Shiro is HARD. Bless anyone who can do it.
> 
> Come yell at their friendship with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/val_hellaa).


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